7:143

The wind was cool and calm, yet she knew the farther up they went, the colder it would get, the more abundant, and yet also more sparse, the stronger the air would whip around them and yet there would be less to breathe. The ground was a soft blanket of grass and it was nice to walk on, the farther you looked up the path, the more it thinned out, until eventually it became grey gravel, and at the peak, there was white virgin snow. The only sounds were their boots crunching over the ground, and the wind whistling as it whipped by. It tasted cool, pure.

The sun was peeking out from behind the mighty behemoth. Glowing golden, weakly. The power of it’s warmth still intact though. Wherever beams of light hit the ground, the grass was greener, and she loved walking through those sunbeams because the warmth spread through her body, every particle, every pore basking in the glow, rejuvenated.

Her porter walked behind her, her cameraman by her side. Her dog circled around. They were making this trek, trying to beat the record by a day, she thought she was ready. She was focused. Breathing in, breathing out. Getting her mind ready. Ninety percent of the battle was mental. You won or lost your challenge in your head. After a certain point, of course, and she had passed the physical requirements, she was beyond that point. Now, it was a game of nerves. Breathing in, breathing out.

This last stretch would be the hardest. She wanted to cover a good few miles before the sun set, and it was maybe another two hours till darkness. Her legs were straining, sweat was dripping off her brows, they were at the gravelly part. Boots crunching, the sandals of the porter softly treading. She had an extra pair of sneakers, it would probably be best to give those to him. He was just a boy, they would probably just fit him. Once or twice she stumbled, she heard her camera man gasping, he was running out of breath too. Just a little bit more. Just a little more.

Her vision started turning black, the world started spinning, she closed her eyes. She had set a goal, she would reach that oddly shaped rock before the light went down, and even if it took them a little bit longer. She closed her eyes, shook her head, carried on. Her camera man stumbled, she helped him up, looked into his eyes, gave him the last of her chocolates and smiled. She turned and looked at the porter who was also heaving now. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more.

Finally, they made it. She collapsed onto the ground, and without setting up tents, all of them passed out. She woke up, nerves stretched, muscles partially recovered at the crack of dawn, she woke the other two. If they could cover a certain amount of distance today, they could rest longer. She had this all planned out before she left. All on a map. But maps didnt mean much in this place, in this abandoned wilderness. The mountain loomed over cities, greater than all of them.

Midway through, she heard a crack. The camera man was fine, confused, camera pointing towards her, face contorted in bewilderment. They both looked at the porter, his eyes were wide and white with fear looking at them. Looking beyond them. She turned around slowly. The cracks became louder. The mountain started crumbling as if dust, heavy sharp shards falling down.

The mountain collapsed in all directions, pummeled all the cities around it.